


Silk

by My_Young_Friend



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-24
Updated: 2009-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 16:31:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Young_Friend/pseuds/My_Young_Friend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"You know I could move whatever's blocking the door, or just rip the frame out of the wall, right?"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Silk

 "We survived," Claire breathed as the door to their apartment clicked shut behind her.

"Given that your biological father wants to kill me, your uncle has tried to kill me and your father actually managed to kill me once, it's quite an achievement. " Sylar's dry delivery made Claire smile

"I thought they'd lose it during charades," Claire giggled. "You have the _worst_ luck with that game"

"Hey, blame your half-brother," Sylar responded. "I still think he fixed it so that I got The Legend of Sleepy Hollow."

Claire thought back a few hours. "Him and Monty were smiling a lot before that, weren't they."

"I honestly thought Peter was going to fry me when I tried to do headless."

Claire spluttered slightly, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. He caught her eye and she composed herself.

"Yeah but here we are, limbs and memories intact." It was an old joke between the two of them and Sylar rolled his eyes.

" And of course," Claire continued, "you've not opened your other present yet."

"Oh?" Sylar quirked an eyebrow in a way that he _knew _Claire found irresistible.

"Mmhmm," nodded Claire "The one that is definitely NOT family friendly."

"As opposed to the knife set you got me?"

"Oh come on, that was funny!"

"No," Sylar paused. "It wasn't."

"Well for a first Petrelli/Bennet Christmas, I think you did great. You managed to completely ignore Nathan and Peter being...well, Italian."

"You got the first letter of the word right, but I think you were looking for In-"

"We don't talk about it."

"But they are-"

"We don't talk about it.

Sylar shrugged off his coat, shaking his head. He turned to face Claire only to find empty space. The bedroom door swished shut and he crossed to re-open it.

The handle turned but the door caught on something.

"Uh-uh, wait until I say," Claire teased.

"Play time, is it?" Sylar thought. He knew how to play these games as well.

"I can hear you in there, you know. I can hear the drawer opening, tissue paper rustling, and...silk? Is that silk?"

"Okay you need to turn off the spidey sense right now or no present."

"You know I could move whatever's blocking the door, or just rip the frame out of the wall, right?"

"And you know that I could withhold sex for a month or more and shred your present right now, right?"

**************************************

Both an eternity and five minutes passed, during which time Sylar's imagination threw up images of tiny silk dresses, kimonos, teddies and a menagerie of physically improbable but incredibly attractive lingerie. After three minutes he'd had to loosen his pants and by the time Claire came out of the bedroom he'd discarded his clothes almost entirely, only his shorts remaining. A small part of his brain was glad for this when he saw her. A much larger part was thanking Jesus, God, Mary and all the saints and the rest of his brain had shut down completely.

His imagination wasn't even close to the sight before him. He'd seen Claire naked on more occasions than he could count but this, somehow, was hotter than anything before. Silk flowed over her curves, caressing her hips before falling into a floor-length waterfall of blue-green silk with a slit that ran beyond her thighs, finally ending at waist height. The gentle swish of the fabric as she walked towards him was hypnotising and he was frozen, barely able to move his eyes, much less his legs or hands.

As the fabric moved around her ankles he saw that the silk theme continued; matching ribbons danced their way up her legs ending at her knees, securing a pair of stilettos that curved her calves into a shape that would make Botticelli weep.

Sylar wasn't sure if he was breathing anymore and he could care less.

"You like your present?" Claire smiled at him. That smile, that voice, those words, something in the combination woke him and instinct prevailed.

He snatched her towards him, grip slipping on the smooth fabric but that didn't matter, she was close enough now and he attacked her mouth furiously. Sucking at her bottom lip he teased her mouth open and plundered it mercilessly, sucking, stroking, searching out every spot experience taught him would bring that wonderful deep moan of satisfaction up from her throat.

Not breaking the kiss for a moment, he guided her to the couch, sitting her gently down before finally coming up for air. Claire panted and gasped, whether for air or more, Sylar didn't know. He knelt down before her and swept the skirt of her nightgown away to one side and lifting one smooth leg up towards him. Slowly he stroked the path of the ribbons with his fingers, kissing first the arch of her foot, then the first cross of the silk ties, then the second, the third, the fourth, his fingers finally reaching the top just before his lips and loosening the smooth binds. Claire's breath hitched as he kissed just above her knee and he grinned.

"Uh-uh," he said slyly.

********************************

Claire threw her head back in frustration before Sylar started the torture again, this time with her right leg. _This_ time he reached the top of her calf and didn't stop. Each hand moved to encompass one of her thighs stroking first the sides, then the insides; all the while his kisses alternated between thighs, until just before the sweet spot, he stopped. Claire looked down, pouting, searching for the reason for the sudden halt. Even pulled to the side, the silk of the skirt bunched around Claire's middle, impeding the path of Sylar's hands. The same hands slid up to the couch cushions as Sylar pulled himself up to her eye level.

"We have a problem." he breathed, kissing his way up to her ear.

"That a fact?" asked Claire, smirking though breathing heavily.

"Mmm." Sylar sucked on her earlobe.

"And what's the problem?" giggled Claire, knowing well enough as Sylar tented shorts rubbed the side of her leg.

"I've run out of patience."

A cool breeze blew over Claire and she shivered, eyes rolling back into her head. Sometimes she loved Sylar's telekinesis.

She leaned to the side, stretching herself out fully on the couch and within seconds Sylar was above her. One hand stroked her face gently as he kissed her again, hungrily; the other explored the newly revealed flesh: stroking, pinching and tickling its way down her body until she was near convulsing beneath him. He chuckled as she writhed and the deep vibrations in her mouth made the sensation more acute. This was too much; she might finally die of this overload. Just when she'd decided that it wasn't a bad way to go, Sylar's hand reached its final destination.

One finger at a time stroked around her sensitive clit and she moaned for more. A feather-light touch with one finger made her buck beneath him and the constant onslaught of all four and thumb sent her crashing over the edge. She screamed out for Sylar as she came and still he continued, eking out every last pulse of her orgasm

"Don't think that we're finished, Claire," Sylar whispered, his hand finally releasing her abused quim. Claire barely had time to catch her breath before the fingers returned, this time stroking and teasing their way inside her centre. First one, thrusting in and out with an agonisingly slow rhythm; then a second found its way in stretching her gently.

She barely heard the whispered "Ready?" as Sylar's fingers were removed and something altogether more impressive pressed against her opening. She hoped her moans would be answer enough as she wasn't sure she could talk right now. The message got through as seconds later Sylar had plunged inside her, one hand bracing himself on the cushion beside her head, the other caressing first one breast, then the other. She could feel her climax building and clenched her muscles, hoping to spur Sylar on. He gasped and began to move. The rhythm was fast and ragged, as though he'd been holding back for too long. Claire began to pant again, groaning as sensation surged through her. Just as she was ready to come, Sylar again attacked her over-sensitized quim and she arched into the touch, overrun by feeling. She screamed Sylar's name once more before everything turned to black.

Sometime later, Claire awoke to see Sylar smiling down at her, sated and mischievous.

"I'm not sure," he murmured, twisting a lock of her hair between his fingers, "but I don't think I've ever fucked you unconscious before."

Claire met his gaze and smiled. "Well, maybe I should wear that nightdress more often.

Sylar looked uncertain for a moment and looked towards on a spot a few feet away from the couch. "That may be difficult."

Claire followed his gaze a saw a pile of smooth blue-green rags on the floor.

"Sylar!"

 


End file.
